A guard was already moving. His boot caught Rosalind square in the chest and sent her sprawling. Then he seized my wrist, dragged me in front of Celeste, and shoved me down. "Kneel."
I looked up at him, cold and unblinking. "You forget yourself. What gives you the right to lay a hand on me?"
The words had barely left my mouth when something slammed into the backs of my knees. They buckled, and I crashed onto the stone with a crack that shot white-hot pain through every bone in my body.
The guard pressed the flat of his sword against my spine. "Apologize to the lady."
Celeste stood before me. Her brocade slippers were exquisite, each stitch immaculate. They might as well have been a taunt.
Rosalind clutched her injured chest and tried to lunge forward, but Celeste's people pinned her down. "Shut your mouth. A lowborn maid has no business running it in front of our lady."
Celeste's voice drifted down from above me, soft as silk. "My lady, all you need to do is apologize. I won't hold it against you."
"Or is it that you look down on me? That you think I'm some shameful kept woman not fit to be seen?"